


Rigaretoni

by unpopularmyth (Chrysander)



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Fontcest, M/M, Psychopathology & Sociopathy, Stockholm Syndrome
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-28
Updated: 2017-09-15
Packaged: 2018-11-19 23:40:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11324127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chrysander/pseuds/unpopularmyth
Summary: A deviation of Lovova's Spiralini(ing out of control).





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Spiralini(ng out of control)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6999079) by [Lovova](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lovova/pseuds/Lovova). 



> Based on  
> Regretti by skeletonfricker  
> Caveatelli by Sora_tayuya  
> Spiralini(ing out of control) by Lovova
> 
> Read those first in the order listed!
> 
> Also, check out Pennence by imsosorry (StarStreakedSky) for some what-if offshoots to Lovova's work. Starstreakedsky's work does not have anything to do with this fic, but they are a good read.

A week had passed after the second tub incident, in which the previous routine had started once again. Hours of being left alone in the room, Papyrus returning, the evening routine of being force fed, read to and put to bed. Sans preferred it this way, he didn't want another incident, and if this was Papyrus' way of punishing him, then so be it.

Left alone to his own devices again, Sans stared at the circles that he had scribbled down when an idea struck him. He put ears on the circles, and a bow tie, he drew a body, and next to it a box. He made the rabbit (it was a rabbit right?) hold the nice cream bar. He stared at the picture and he had an epiphany.

This was what he wanted, a simple nice cream bar.

He was so excited in fact that he tried to show Papyrus when he came in to feed him. "Good evening, brother. I trust your behavior is in a much better state today!" A greeting that Papyrus would give him now, whenever he walked in. Papyrus would not look at it, instead, he reached and put the paper down. "It's dinner time, brother. We are having dinner." Sans complied. It was only when Sans put the picture in front of the book Papyrus had been attempting to read to him after dinner that his brother reacted.

Papyrus looked at it quizzically, then put it to the side, "Really Sans, your drawings are dreadful! You draw like a child. Even I could do better than that." He dropped the subject and continued to read, brushing his hand on Sans' hip. Papyrus' new favorite place to touch him, and it sent a shiver through him. Somewhere along the line Papyrus stopped reading, Sans stiffened as he felt his brother's thumb along his the peak of his hip bone.

He started to sweat when Papyrus put the book to the side, "Since you've been so good, brother, how about we try again?" Sans watched Papyrus reach to take off the chain, gently putting it to the side. "After all, we don't want you getting tangled again, do we?" Sans' head spun with caution.

When was Papyrus going to put the chain back on? When? When? Was all his mind would give him, over and over. Papyrus stood then, the clink of his teeth hitting the top of Sans' skull.

Papyrus did not have any worry that Sans would leave, he didn't the last time he had the chance to. The shocked, confused expression his brother was giving the chain was so cute, he had to see it himself. "Brother." He reached and forced Sans to look at him instead. That look sent tingles through him. So adorable.

"We don't want to have any reason to put the chain on again, do we?" Sans shook his head. "Good." Another kiss, this time one his teeth. Sans had flinched at it, but that was alright, he didn't warn him after all. Papyrus rubbed Sans' face. "Good night, Sans." He said as he left, closing the door, and locking it.

\---

Sans sat in his room, chain off. He could feel his soul racing, what was he supposed to do now?

He looked to his dresser.

Crawling over, he dug through his clothes until he found the hoodie. He put it on and hugged it around himself. 

Safe. 

But, wouldn't Papyrus try to take it again? He needed to keep it. Maybe he could hide it? No, if Papyrus found it in whatever hiding spot he chose, he would surely take it again.

So... he would hide it in plain sight! Right back in the drawer that he found it in.

Besides, if he was good, he could wear it again.

Yeah.

All he had to do was 'be good'.

Sans moved over to his bed and slept.

Just as Papyrus predicted, Sans did not attempt to leave during the night.

\---

The door opening jolted Sans awake, he sat up, only realizing that it wasn't his door that had opened. He crawled over to the door, listening to Papyrus' footsteps down the stairs, and the distant clinking of pots and pans. Was he cooking breakfast? Sans had not had a hot breakfast in so long...

The sound of footsteps up the stairs made him tense, and he moved away from the door. "SANS! I AM MAKING BREAKFAST. I EXPECT YOU TO BE AWAKE AND READY WHEN I COME TO GET YOU."

Sans froze until the sound of Papyrus' shoes went back down the stairs.

Be ready? He looked down at himself, in his shorts and hoodie (and boot). Then to the closet and dresser of clothes.

Papyrus wanted him to dress, was he going to be let out of the room? Was he going to be able to eat downstairs? What if he chose the wrong clothes to wear and his brother got mad?

Calm down, he'd be angrier if he came in here while you were deliberating and found you still in your pajama shorts.

He'd start off simple today. Yeah, that was a good idea. A simple white shirt and... and...

His thoughts came to a stop when he stared at the pants, gaze dropping to the boot. Oh, stars this was going to hurt.  
Carefully he stripped himself of the shorts, holding his leg just under the patella. He slipped off the shorts. Alright, easy enough. The trick was to get the pants on, he chose pants that were not tight at the ankles. He had a bit of trouble getting the boot through the pant leg and winced in agony. The other leg went in without trouble, and he pulled up his pant waist as good as he could while on the ground. He was nearly out of breath when he opened the drawer full of shirts. Pausing when his gaze settled on a turtleneck sweater. He put it on immediately, and the slipped the hoodie on last, then sat back. Marveling at how he was, for the first time in months, so fully clothed.

He looked through his other draws until he finally found them. The socks. (He would wear socks for the first time in months too!) After he put the sock on his good foot, the door opened, and he nearly jumped in fright. How had he not noticed Papyrus coming up the stairs?

Papyrus paused in the doorway, staring at Sans. "Really Sans?" His tone was curt, and Sans could feel himself starting to tremble. "Are you truly that cold?" Oh, stars he made a mistake. He started to take the hoodie off immediately, "Don't bother with it now! Breakfast will be cold by the time you settle on what you are wearing, slow poke."

Wait... What?

Before he could recover he'd been picked up and carried downstairs, and sat in a chair at the table. "Here you are, brother!" What was put in front of him was a quiche... a quiche? What was going on?

"I know that quiche is one of your favorite dishes. And while I am very disappointed in how you dressed yourself today, you have still been very good, brother. So today you get a treat." Papyrus sat next to him and forked a piece of quiche, which Sans accepted. Even if it was a bit salty, it wasn't entirely dreadful. "I found a recipe for a healthier quiche than the disgusting one you always made. It has spinach in it, and some tomato - I know you like those - Sans, why are you crying?"

Oh, he didn't know... maybe because this was the first attempt at normalcy in how long? He was just so overwhelmed.

"If you are going to cry about it, I'll just throw it away and you'll go back to your room!" No no no no no no no no. Sans shook his head and opened his mouth, patting his chest. He didn't want to go back, he didn't want to be locked up anymore. Damn it stop crying!

It was so cute to see his brother struggling to compose himself in an effort to please him. Papyrus smiled and cupped his brother's face, wiping the tears away for him. "I understand. You are just overwhelmed, aren't you? After all, eating at the table is a rather big step, isn't it? It's alright, brother. I forgive you." His thumb rubbed his brother's cheekbone. "You see it now, don't you? Good behavior does not go unrewarded. You just needed time to understand that. You'll forgive me for having to teach you that the hard way, won't you?."

A cold chill went down Sans' spine, but he nodded slowly.

"Good. After breakfast, you can roam the house as you like, but you are not allowed to open any of the curtains or leave. I can trust you on this today, can't I brother?" He knew the implications, if he didn't listen, there would be consequences.

Sans nodded.

"Good. Now back to breakfast. You know, I have a full day ahead of me, brother. Not only do I have to do my own duties, but I still have to pick up the slack left behind when you quit." Sans ate every bite. When Papyrus was done he put something else in front of him. Orange juice. Oh, stars, he hadn't had something to drink in so long, he... he... he wanted to savor it. So he sipped it.

Papyrus stood to collect the plates, knocking into Sans' injured foot. Sans screamed silently from the pain and doubled over against the table, barely managing not to spill his orange juice. "Hmm. We'll have to think of something for your foot, won't we? Perhaps I'll have Alphys take a look at it. Not today, of course. I think you've had quite enough new things happen and we wouldn't want to overwhelm you too much." Papyrus did not think Sans was quite ready for interaction with the outside, but giving him some hope wouldn't hurt. It was a delicate game of giving and taking.

After Papyrus did the dishes, he left Sans in the kitchen. "Have a good day, brother. Behave." The last one was said in an expectant tone.

When the door to the house closed, Sans was left in the kitchen, silence in the house once again. The lights were off, save for a lamp in the living room, and the sink light. The sink, he noted, was returned to a more manageable height.

\---

Papyrus paused outside the house and took in a deep breath, locking the door. He could do this. He'd shown him how to be good, and it had taken some time, but now was the time for trust. He was very sure Sans would not screw this up, but he'd been wrong before.

He turned to face the day, greeting monsters as he went, assuring them Sans was still feeling unwell, assuring them that he would tell him that they thought of him. Assuring them that nothing was amiss. This was, after all, Papyrus.

And who would believe Papyrus was capable of any wrongdoing? Certainly not even himself.

Instead of going directly to his shift, he went to Waterfall, remembering he saw something interesting there before but he hadn't thought to pick it up yet.

He greeted any monster on the way there and entered the dump, musing over the last month or so. He didn't want to continue using the tub for their fun time, and he didn't want to punish Sans in his bedroom. Sans would need a safe place, and he wanted to be able to bathe Sans without him panicking over the water. Ah, there it was.

After shifting around some junk and pulled out the huge wardrobe chest. It was old and made of heavy hardwood snugly fit together.

It was perfect.

He dragged it all the way to the shed, cleaned it, fastened a lock on it and re-sealed the cracks with a thick wax that he acquired from Gerson's store.

Sans would probably have called it 'Turtle Wax'. Ugh.

Papyrus finished applying the wax and returned to his duties.

\---

Sans waited...

He didn't know what he was waiting for. Maybe for Papyrus to come back? But he was almost afraid to move from the spot he sat. He finished his orange juice and looked at the sink. Papyrus would be furious if he didn't wash it, he was certain.

Using the table to stand, he rested his injured leg on the chair and shuffled over to the sink with it. His gaze going to the silverware, then to the fridge. Maybe... one more glass. Papyrus would never know.

Sans and the chair shuffled over to the fridge, opening it. Inside was spaghetti, and the orange juice. He paused halfway to reaching for the juice though when he caught sight of the ketchup. It brought tears to his sockets as he picked the bottle up, cradling it against him. He slowly slumped in the chair, pressing his face against the back of it.

No one could hear his breakdown. Or understand why he was crying so hard over something as simple as ketchup. When Sans finally recovered, he looked at the bottle and put it between his teeth. He'd kept it there as he closed the door and washed the glass. Leaving the chair at the kitchen table to scoot over to the door. He tried it, and when it was locked he looked to the knob to find that it had no way of unlocking it. Further inspection of the door revealed that there was a two-way deadbolt fastened to it now. Requiring a key for both sides.

Great.

He stared at the lock before scooting over to the windows, slowly peeking out, in case Papyrus was watching him. When he confirmed he wasn't being watched he gave the windows a once over, but could not open them. They were also locked with a deadbolt that required a key.

Of course, Pap would take steps to ensure that he couldn't just get out. What was he thinking? Sans slumped onto the floor, and it was twenty minutes before he mustered the energy to drag himself onto the couch, careful of his leg. Finally, he cried, sipping on ketchup until he fell asleep.

\---

When Papyrus came home he opened the door slowly, closing it behind him equally slowly. Sure he was a loud and boisterous individual, but he knew how to be quiet. Once he locked the two-way deadbolt he looked around to see Sans on the couch, with a bottle of ketchup. He narrowed his sockets, unsure if he wanted to be angry at this or not. For now, he stepped into the kitchen, checking on the sink. Pleased that Sans had washed his own glass. Good. Sans was starting to think and act exactly how he wanted him to.

Returning to the living room, he checked the curtain rod. Only to be disappointed. No. Livid to see that the curtain was not where he'd neatly set on the edge of the tape that he had placed so meticulously. With a steady breath, he grabbed Sans' good foot and yanked him off the couch. Startling him awake in the process, "DID YOU THINK I WOULD NOT NOTICE YOU DID EXACTLY WHAT I TOLD YOU NOT TO DO?!"

Sans was struggling to get out of his grasp, but he pulled his brother to him and lifted him off the ground, turning him towards the curtains. "DO YOU REMEMBER WHAT I SAID THIS MORNING? I said, specifically NOT TO TOUCH THE CURTAINS! AND LOOK HERE!" He pointed to the curtain, then turned Sans around, who was in tears and terrified. Good.

"You DELIBERATELY disobeyed me! Do you think it's funny?" His grip was so tight he was sure to leave bruises, if not a hairline crack or two. "DO YOU?!" He shook his brother. "DO YOU THINK IT'S FUNNY?!" Sans shook his head, over and over again, in tears again. "Then why do you do this to me, Sans? Do you think I enjoy seeing you like this? Do you think I enjoy having to punish you?!" Nevermind the fact that he actually did, immensely enjoy seeing Sans terrified, tired and in tears. "I DO SO MUCH FOR YOU, BROTHER AND THIS IS HOW YOU REPAY ME?!"

He shoved Sans to the floor "STAY HERE." Papyrus turned and unlocked the door, walking out into the cold, shutting the door behind him. Dragging the heavy trunk he restored that morning out of the shed and into the house. Sans was still where he had shoved him to the floor. Good.

He placed the trunk down, opening it and stepping over to Sans, who seemed to be trying to plead with him. He picked his brother up, then set him inside the box. "Don't struggle! This is your own fault, brother, and I will not have you hurt yourself." When he had Sans sitting in the box, he gave pause to the hoodie. "Take it off."

Sans did not respond fast enough, "TAKE. IT. OFF." When it was off, he took it and placed his hand on Sans' head, "You are going to stay in here until you think about what you've done, brother." Papyrus pushed Sans' head into the trunk and closed it, locking the trunk.

\---

The trunk wasn't quite big enough for Sans, and he was forced to lay fetal position inside of it. Even then it was a tight fit. It had been over an hour since Papyrus locked him up inside and moved him somewhere. He could only guess that it was under the hallway table because the trunk had been shoved, not picked up. It smelled of bleach and wax, both unpleasant. The trunk was surprisingly well made, and the wood so thick he could barely hear what was going on outside of it. Not even a pinprick of light was able to be seen through the trunk.

The cramped confines of the trunk did nothing good for his spine, but as far as punishments go, it wasn't all that... bad?

Stars... when was being shoved into a cramped, stinky trunk become 'okay'?

Okay, well, he was trapped in a trunk.

Okay, well, he was a prisoner to his brother.

Okay, well, he was crying again.

Okay, well, he was... was...

 

He was a bad brother.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now that we have the establishing chapter out of the way...

Papyrus paced the house, thinking about what to do next. It took some time to formulate what he wanted, let alone what the next step was, it wasn't like there was an instruction booklet for this type of ordeal. If only Sans hadn't been so stupid! What if someone had seen him? No, he was sure he would have been asked about it if they had.

Oh, Sans, why oh why did you have to go and do that. He was doing so good.

Not to worry, this isn't a major setback.

Papyrus paused in his pacing when he heard his brother crying, faintly, and only when he was near the trunk. He knelt down, surprised how sound proof it was. Perhaps if he lined it with padding it would be even more sound proof. Unfortunately, it would be more comfortable then. Papyrus didn't want that.

He reached over to knock on the top of the chest. "Brother, have you thought about what you've done?" Of course, there was no response.

"We'll talk about this in the morning."  
\---  
What? No, wait. Don't leave. Don't leave me in this box, please?

Sans patted the inside of the trunk, trying to get his brothers attention, though because of the tight space, he didn't have much room to strike the trunk. When that didn't work he tried to rock the trunk, to very little success until he heard his brother scream right next to the lid. "IF YOU DIDN'T WANT THIS YOU SHOULDN'T HAVE FORCED ME TO DO THIS, BROTHER! YOU WILL STAY IN THERE TILL MORNING, OR LATER THEN THAT, THAT IS UP TO YOU. GOOD NIGHT."

For hours after Papyrus' leave, the house was silent. What was Sans supposed to do?

Weren't you listening? Papyrus wants you to think about 'what you had done'.

Sans stared at the wax coating of the trunk, which he could not see. His foot ached, being in its cramped position. He felt so small. Like an ant stuck in an impossibly small space. You would think that the box would make him feel bigger, being so cramped. Perhaps it was an illusion caused by the total darkness, something he did not even have in his bedroom. At least in his bedroom there had been the ambient light reflecting off the snow outside. Now he could see nothing, hear nearly nothing. The silence felt gigantic, like a big dark pit that didn't even really feel like it was coming from outside at all.

A big dark pit that kept getting wider and wider.

His breathing hitched and he was fucking crying again.

Why had all this happened?

When had Papyrus begun to act like this? (Had Papyrus acted any other way?)

Why was he sitting here deliberating so much? This wasn't what Papyrus had meant, was it?

What had he done?

...........

Sans blinked, staring at nothing, sniffling as he connected what his sleep addled mind hadn't before.  
Recalling Papyrus telling him specifically not to. Yet he had.

He moved the curtain.

Sans stifled a laugh and pressed his hand to his face.  
No, he'd done more than just move a curtain. He disobeyed!  
Shouldn't he be feeling empowered? Shouldn't he be feeling like he had a small victory? Surely it didn't matter he was in such a situation because - HA! take that Papyrus and your silly, stupid curtain! I could still make you mad over stupid, tiny little things!

But if he'd had power over anything, even getting his brother angry, why was he feeling so terrible? Why did he feel so small? Why was he feeling like he'd done something truly, profoundly awful when it was just a fucking curtain?!

It hadn't even been moved by very much. He knew he had hardly moved it at all. Certainly not enough to warrant this, had it?  
Papyrus thought so.

Papyrus wanted the curtains closed over his life. When all Sans wanted was to exit, stage left. Or right. Both would work.

Heh...

Heheheh....

Hehehehehehheheheheheheheheheheheh.

Cur.. curtains!

Curtains closed!

Haha. HAHA.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

.........

Sans continued to laugh in silence, laughing so hard he had to gasp to get his breath back, tears streaming down his face. Laughing so hard he didn't notice the air inside the box starting to get stale. Did not notice that it was getting slowly more difficult to get any air. It was already hard to breathe from laughing so damn hard.

He was tired and getting more so by the minute. Yet he continued to laugh until he had laughed himself to sleep.

\---

Papyrus woke that morning much like he woke every morning, reassuring himself of his greatness. Yet this morning was particularly noteworthy. As he recalled the state Sans had been in during the second tub incident. Particularly the dark feelings his brother had been having during that time. He'd been thinking about it quite a lot more than he would have liked.

As he began to dress, he gave pause when he began to reach for his usual attire, his battle body. The outfit Sans had made for him for that Halloween party. It seemed like so long ago.

It was a glorious day, he had been so excited when Sans said he could come. He demanded he would come, of course. It was the first party Sans hadn't successfully deterred him from coming. He remembered when Sans had told him that he would make him an outfit for the party.  
Papyrus hadn't seen Sans work so hard in such a long time. When the outfit was finished, it was the day of the party (Sans was always late getting things done, it always infuriated him). It was such an exciting day. Such a thrilling build up to what was surely going to be the best party on Hallow's Eve in all the underground, simply because the Great Papyrus would be there.

And Sans had ruined it. He'd ruined it by not dressing up. He'd ruined it by telling his infernal puns over and over and over. Taking the attention away from himself.  
No. It wasn't that Papyrus wanted to be the center of attention to everyone, though he surely deserved to be. It was everyone's attention on Sans.

Most importantly, Sans' attention was on everything other than Papyrus.

That was how Sans had ruined such a magical and glorious night.

Papyrus could not help but grin, despite all of this because he now had Sans all to himself.

He was the center of Sans world.

That was more thrilling than any silly party full of Sans' idiotic and pathetic would be 'friends'.  
While their life before was full of Sans ignoring him or flat out disobeying him. This new life with his brother was perfect.

Or it would be if Sans would just do as he was told. Even now his brother was mocking him, disobeying him. Defying him.

All of this was for his own good, really. Sans was so self-destructive before. Drinking all the time, and eating unhealthy food till he was gorged.

This outcome was best for his brother, he rationalized. If he hadn't been so defiant he wouldn't be trapped in a trunk, he told himself.

As Papyrus finished dressing (not into his battle body), he told himself that everything he was doing was needed, necessary for his brother to grow into what he wanted him to be.

Before it was merely wanting his brother to just exist, chained up, like a pretty little fragile toy that only he could enjoy. But he realized now that he didn't want just that, reflecting on Sans' behavior in the past, and the satisfaction of seeing the orange juice glass washed without prompt.

Papyrus realized what he truly wanted.

For Sans to become what he wanted Sans to be in the first place. Sure, he took so much pleasure seeing Sans cower beneath him. Put in his place. Afraid and confused. It was so adorable. But there was nothing saying that he couldn't have the best of both worlds, was there?

No.

He was going to have the perfect, well-behaved and refined brother, and the fragile, sad, frightened - oh so adorable - brother in the same skeleton!

With Papyrus at the helm, he would make Sans into a better brother.  
  
He stepped down the stairs and stopped next to the table. Perhaps he'd give Sans a chance to redeem himself this morning. Reaching down, Papyrus pulled the trunk out from under the table and unlocked it with a key, and opening the lid.

Instead of seeing Sans' oh so adorable kicked puppy look, he was staring down at an unconscious brother. Papyrus narrowed his gaze, took a deep breath, "RISE AND SHINE, BROTHER! I'VE DECIDED TO BE GRACIOUS THIS MORNING AND ALLOW YOU A CHANCE TO REDEEM YOURSELF FOR YESTERDAY'S BAD BEHAVIOR."

Sans didn't respond.

Papyrus felt anger flare in him, but he cooled it and cleared his throat again, "BROTHER, DO NOT MAKE ME HAVE TO DRAG YOU FROM THIS TRUNK!"

Sans did not respond.

Papyrus stared down at his brother, a shiver of panic going down his spine. Reaching in, he pulled his brother's head up. Studying the purple etched deep under his eye sockets, and the lack of his expanding ribs. He wasn't breathing. Ridiculous, skeletons need to breathe surmounted to about the same as an apparitions need to bathe. Which was not a lot, or at the least, rarely.

There was something wrong here, and it wasn't inherently breathing, was it? He pulled his brother close and listened to his chest. Hearing the irregular thrumming of his soul.

What could he do? He was no doctor, and if he didn't do something, if the thrumming stopped. Well, he would surely be livid with Sans for doing this to him! Think... Think...  
He wasn't a doctor, but he knew a doctor! Alphys! Of course!

How silly, what was he panicking for when he could just take care of this over the phone?

He dialed her number and waited, still listening to the thrumming of his brother's soul.

"H-hello?"  
"ALPHYS! I NEED YOUR HELP. SANS HAS STOPPED BREATHING, WHICH I THINK IS REALLY WEIRD, BUT HIS SOUL SOUNDS STRANGE AND IRREGULAR, IS THERE ANYTHING YOU CAN DO TO HELP?!" Careful to keep himself sounding calm, but stressed enough to sound like he was worried.  
"W-what? D-do you need me to c-c-come over?" Shit.  
"NO NO! I NEED GUIDANCE! IF IT TAKES YOU TOO LONG TO GET HERE AND SOMETHING HAPPENS THEN I WOULD NEVER FORGIVE MYSELF!" Surely, neither would she.  
"O-o-oh. Uh. Let me see... Y-you said it was irregular, and he w-wasn't breathing?"  
"YES, PRECISELY."  
"W-well, our soul thrum is like a human's heartbeat. I-i-it h-helps pump magic through our b-bodies, as well as do m-many other things. S-so wh-what you need to do is g-get it g-g-g-going again at a r-r-regular p-pace."  
"AND HOW TO I DO THAT?" He was feeling irritated now.  
"Uh, h-have you t-tried giving him several firm s-strikes to the chest?"  
"ALPHYS!"  
"Y-you don't have t-t-to hit him very hard, j-just enough to get his soul to- to. W-w-we call it a hiccup."

"I'LL TRY." Papyrus put the phone down and lay Sans on his back, using the flat of his palm to strike down. Nothing.  
"T-try a f-few times." He heard faintly from the phone.

He struck him in the chest a few more times, careful to use precisely enough force not to seriously hurt him. At the fourth strike, Sans gasped for air and coughed, rolling to the side. Papyrus picked the phone back up.

"THANK YOU, ALPHYS. THANK YOU SO, SO MUCH. I CANNOT REPAY YOU ENOUGH! WHAT DO I DO TO PREVENT THIS FROM HAPPENING AGAIN?"  
"O-oh. W-well, has he been eating w-well?"  
"NO, UNFORTUNATELY, I CANNOT GET HIM TO EAT MORE THAN ONCE OR TWICE A DAY."  
"W-well it might be b-because the collar is int-terfering with his flow of m-magic. I-its a rare side effect, really! B-but p-perhaps making s-sure he th-theophylline in his d-diet might h-help."  
"........." Stupid, idiotic, stubby little bitch. "ALPHYS I DO NOT KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS."  
"W-well th-theophylline is a bronchodilator drug that --"  
"ALPHYS." He could not keep the edge of disdain and anger out of his voice that time.  
"T-try c-coffee, tea, pretty much anything that h-has caffeine. I-it sh-should work j-just as w-well."  
"OH, THAT IS AN EASY FIX, THANK YOU, ALPHYS."  
"H-he should r-really be seen b-by your doctor o-or I c-could take a look at him if you think he's still a d-danger to--"  
"THANK YOU FOR THE OFFER, ALPHYS, I WILL LET YOU KNOW WHEN WE ARE READY FOR THAT. GOOD BYE."

He hung up.

Papyrus looked down at Sans as he seemed to finally be catching his breath. "Well this was an oversight, wasn't it, brother? It is alright, I know you did not mean to almost die on me. I forgive you." He'd have to tweak the functionality of the trunk later. Perhaps he'd provide a means of his brother getting air while inside of it.

He stood then, returning the trunk to its place underneath the table. "You best be at the table by the time I am finished with breakfast, brother. Oh, don't worry about getting dressed, we'll be cleaning you up later. It's been too long since you had a bath!" With that, he left his brother on the floor and entered the kitchen, busying himself with getting breakfast ready.

\---

At the mention of the bath, Sans eye sockets going hollow. If it was even possible to feel more breathless than he was now, he would be. He turned to look at Papyrus as he fiddled in the kitchen. Sans shivered, dizzy, not wanting to move as he stared at the carpet.

"SANS I KNOW YOU ARE NOT TRYING TO IGNORE ME." Sans nearly jumped when his brother addressed him, looking over to see him starting to set the table. He shuffled along the floor, dragging his gimp foot behind him, till he came to the chair. Pulling himself up onto it, with the use of the table.

He could not quell his rattling bones as he sat there, being fed oatmeal, that was a tad too sweet, by Papyrus. Clenching onto the edge of the seat, his gaze shifting up to look at Papyrus' face, trying to get insight on what his brother was thinking.

Was Papyrus going to... going to... do that again?

Sans tried to eat slower that morning, but eventually, he was done with his oatmeal. A cup of coffee placed in front of him. "Drink your coffee so you can take a bath." It was given to him black, and his brother stood there, arms crossed, waiting for him to be done. Sans sipped it, gagging at the taste of how strong it was. It could use some cream or sugar to lessen the sting, and when he tried to communicate that to Papyrus his brother scoffed. "Additives are quite unhealthy, brother, but if you insist on having them then you have to be good. Perhaps if you are good during your bath I will consider giving you a choice of cream or sugar with tomorrow's coffee."

Sans blanched at the thought, looking back to his cup of black coffee. Did he really want cream in his coffee that much? Papyrus seemed to detect this sort of train of thought, "OF COURSE, IF YOU MISBEHAVE DURING BATH TIME THEN YOU'LL GO RIGHT BACK INTO TIMEOUT." He shivered again and slowly nodded.

The feeling of dread growing in him the less coffee there was in the mug.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like this fic, or its too heavy for you, consider checking out my other fic 'One Day At A Time' which I assure you, is a much more fluffy story then this one!


	3. Chapter 3

Papyrus checked the temperature of the bath water once again before returning to the kitchen. 

"ARE YOU FINISHED WITH YOUR COFFEE, YET?!" He did not bother to hide his grin at the sight of Sans jump. The growing skittish behavior in his brother was oh so cute. 

When Sans mug was empty, Papyrus placed it into the sink. "COME NOW, BROTHER." He picked Sans up, who was still shaking so profusely. Papyrus made no comment of it as he brought his brother into the bathroom, and undressed him unceremoniously. 

"Pants of all things!" He griped, "AND a sweater? You're in the house all the time, Sans, you don't to wear warm clothes." Papyrus caught his brother's face in his hands, "You'll dress more practical today, won't you brother?"

They eyelights in Sans' sockets widened at the underlying curt tone Papyrus had given him. He nodded swiftly before deviating his gaze. Papyrus stood straight, keeping his hold on Sans' face. Taking a moment to appreciate the sight of his brother's face at just the right height to be at waist level. 

An idea came to Papyrus then, with a wave of intoxicating giddiness that he almost could not contain. He decided that today he would allow one last depraved act in this room; tomorrow the room will be strictly for cleaning. He stroked his thumb along Sans' cheekbone, down to his chin, continueing gently across his teeth.

"We're going to try something new today, brother." Papyrus tone was soft, gentle almost. Sans started to shake more, much to Papyrus changrine. "Don't be like that. You'll like it if you just relax. Now, give me your soul." 

It took Sans more moments that he wanted to produce his soul, but less time than before, so Papyrus let his tardiness slide. Retrieving the soul, Papyrus marveled at the softness of it, feeling his brother's apprehension as he held it. Was Sans trying to hide his feelings again? It won't last for long, and was just a waste of energy to try to hide from him. Papyrus slipped the soul underneath his rib cage, placing it against his own soul.

Instantly he felt the connection between them on contact, his brother could no longer hide what he was feeling. Primarily Papyrus felt his fear, good.

please, not again. please papyrus.

"Oh we won't do that again, not today. Today we are going to explore something new."

i'm sorry, please don't- 

Papyrus grabbed his brother's jaw sharply, craning his head up to draw his attention back toward him.

"Are you telling me 'no', Sans?" 

Sans froze at the question.

"I sure hope you are not. Didn't you promise me you'll be good, today?"

Sans nodded.

Papyrus gave Sans a warm smile. "So behave, brother. Now remove my pants." He felt Sans revulsion rise, he concentrated on forcing Sans to share his giddiness. 

After a moment Sans unbuckled his pants, pulling them down to his femurs. "Good. Good, brother. Now lick me."

oh stars, please n... papyrus

DO IT, SANS. QUIT WASTING TIME!

Sans flinched at the mental lashing, the quiet tingling of magic in the air the only hint that he had summoned a tongue until he opened his mouth.

The feeling of Sans tongue on his pubic symphysis excited Papyrus, with some focus he could empart his rousing experience onto his brother's soul. His grin widened when he heard his brother let out a whining gasp. 

"Keep going." Papyrus whispered, shivering with every one of his brother's licks. He could feel his magic begin to coil in the inlet of his pelvis.

**___**

Sans continued to lick his brother's pubic symphisis, the waves of forced pleasure began to ebb after a while, however. He could feel the tension rise in his brother's soul, an anger that sent fear through him like a rocket. Frantically shifting his gaze up, looking for direction, but all he could see of his tall brother was his shirt.

"Sans, why are you so pathetic?" Sans flinched at the tone and gave a quiet whine, immediately shifting his gaze away from Papyrus' shirt, closing them when his brother's phalanges close firmly over his skull. The pressure Papyrus applied continued to increase.

p-please--

"SHUT UP." Sans winced at the harsh grip, now threatening to cave his skull in. "PUT MORE EFFORT INTO IT, BROTHER. I WANT YOU TO TRY HARDER."

Sans dug his tongue against his brother's pubic symphysis, opening his eyes to see what he was doing. Was this enough?

The exasperated sign from his brother told him that it wasn't. "Is this really the best you could do, Sans? Just repeat the same thing over and over again? What did I expect, really? You are the least creative monster I know. Tell you what, brother." Sans began to feel Papyrus' hands close over his neck. "I'm going to suffocate you until you follow direction properly."

wh-what?! p-papyrus ple--

DO AS YOU ARE TOLD AND I WOULDN'T HAVE TO DO THIS SANS!

Sans began to feel lightheaded from his brother's will and the strangulation of his cervical spine cutting off the flow of his magic. It washed over him, giving his body a firm and quiet order to stop breathing.

He could feel his own soul smothered in a force, though he was vaguely sure it wasn't being squeezed. 

The suffocating feeling engulfed him, leaving him in a state of panic as he began to lick his brother's pubis instead. Frantically dragging his tongue down into the inlet between the pubis and ischium. He vaguely heard something, but didn't pay it any mind as he curled his tongue through the inlet, wrapping around the inside of the pubis. Reaching out to hold onto his brother's femurs as he pressed his teeth into the outside of the pubis.

As his head began to spin, he reached into Papyrus' pants until he touched the inside of the sacrum. Rubbing his phalanges roughly against it, flinching when Papyrus' bucked into his teeth. A wave of pleasure washed over him; Papyrus' pleasure. 

Okay so that was right.

He dug his fingers into his brother's sacrum again; Papyrus' hips ground into his teeth again. Sans closed his teeth around the ischium, plunging his tongue through the loop again, another wave of pleasure washing over him. 

If he was doing this right, then why was Papyrus still strangling him?

Maybe he's not doing this right. Maybe he still needed to try harder.

He bit down on the ischium, desperate to get any reaction that would cause his brother to let him breathe again. The pleasure roiling over him began to fog his mind, he was sure he was close to passing out soon when his head was shoved off.

Oxygen finally filling his incorporeal lungs, leaving him intoxicated. He wasn't sure what was happening in front of him as he concentrated just on catching his breath for a few moments. An orange glow caught his attention, and he as he looked to see what was going on, his head was held firmly.

 "Now stay still." Sans heard before Papyrus' cock was thrust into his mouth.

 He froze there in shock as the invasive appendage was pulled most of the way out, then thrust into his mouth again. The third time it happened he tried to push away, only for his skull to be grabbed and pulled firmly onto the cock as it was thrust deeper. Sans nearly choked on it.

"I SAID STAY STILL!" 

Sans whined, holding onto his brother's femurs with both hands as the warm, dripping magic was shoved all the way to the back of his throat, nearly causing him to gag. Forced to stay still as his brother fucked his skull. Tears streaming down his cheekbones.

Oh stars. 

 Every feeling of revulsion was swallowed by his brother's furious arousal crawling through him, bringing heat to his face and loins. Sending tremors through his bones, and tingles through his skull. Forced to move his head into every thrust, he moaned into his brother's cock, his gag reflex the only thing reminding him where he was and what he was doing. It didn't stop the ache shuddering through his lumbar spine, it didn't stop the feeling of his own magic pooling inside of his pelvic bone with every. single. thrust.

 He was riding the high of his brother's pleasure, that was all. 

 

It wasn't his own. 

 

It wasn't his...

 

It wasn't.

 

It...

 

Wasn't it?

 

Sans felt something hot bursted at the back of his throat, his gag reflex was so strong he clamped down, trying to stop himself from throwing up. Having forgotten for a moment that it was Papyrus' cock that had caused the reflex, that had shot the hot slick into his throat, he hadn't expected the slap that sent him crashing to the floor.

Pain shot through the ulna and carpal bones of his left hand; he held them to his chest. His vision swimming as Papyrus rolled him onto his back and resumed strangulation. 

"THAT HURT!" Sans tried to cough, but the grip on his cervical spine intensified.

papyrus! please, i'm sorry. i didn't...

SHUT UP, SANS. YOU USELESS PIECE OF TRASH!

please.. i didn't mean it.

I SAID SHUT UP.

 Sans eyelights rolled back as he held onto his brother's arm. Oh stars. He was going to die. Right here. With his mouth full of his brother's cum. 

 When his vision started to get splotches, he heard his brother speak again.

 "TO PROVE YOU ARE SORRY, YOU ARE GOING TO SWALLOW, DO YOU UNDERSTAND?" 

 Sans shivered in revulsion, but nodded; he felt his brother loosen his grip slightly, just enough to do as he was told. He expected himself to disobey his brother, to give him the middle finger, and dust on Papyrus right there. 

Spite him. 

 But that expectation of himself, that hopeful courage, never came.

 Instead he swallowed; his gag reflex brought it back up again, but he swallowed it down until it stopped coming back up.

 Only then was his cervical spine released. He felt dizzy as his head was carressed.

 "Good. Good, good, good. You are such a good brother, Sans." Papyrus cooed at him like he was a pet, Sans fliched when he was pulled into embrace. Papyrus stroked the sweat from his bones, whispering praise into the side of his skull. 

 "I am so very proud of you, Sans." Sans couldn't supress the rattling of his bones.

"Shh-sh-sh. Calm down, brother. I'm not angry anymore. You did well. You listened so well." Papyrus' tone was calm, soothing, proud. It did things to Sans; made him feel relieved, happy in a way.

"You didn't mean to bite me, did you?" Sans shook his head; he really hadn't meant to. 

"It's alright, brother. That was certainly a lot to handle, wasn't it?" When Sans realized Papyrus had paused, he nodded. 

The cooing continued after, "That's right. You wouldn't hurt your brother intentionally, would you? You love me too much." 

 

Did he? 

 

 "Don't you?" Sans felt the sting in his tone and nodded frantically; his neck felt sore. Papyrus returned to coddling him with affection. 

 "Don't worry, brother. I forgive you." Oh thank the stars. Sans tensed though when Papyrus forced him to look at him. 

 "However, next time you bite me, I'll remove your teeth, understand?" Sans could only nod softly, feeling tired, terrified. 

 

"Now," Papyrus picked him up, placing him into the still warm bath. "Let's get you cleaned up." 


End file.
